


A little bit of 16th century love

by ahotep100



Category: Swedish History
Genre: F/M, History, Renaissance Era, Sweden - Freeform, Vasa dynasty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-03-24 22:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13820394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahotep100/pseuds/ahotep100
Summary: 16th century Sweden. Noblewoman Märta is newly married to Svante, Sweden's first noblema and member of the state council. He has been away on official business, but misses his wife since about a month, so he rushes home to her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scruggzi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scruggzi/gifts).



> This is part of my Vasa writing work which is a much larger work in Swedish. However, scruggzi was feeling down the other day, so I translated one of the scenes for her.

Märta awoken feeling the empty side of the bed sinking down from another body laying down behind her back. She remained quiet until someone put an arm around her waist. She was just about to start kicking and screaming for help, when the smell of him washed over her.  
“Märta?” came a soft whisper from behind her. “Are you asleep?”  
The warm, well-known voice, as filled with love as usual comforted her and her heart rate returned slowly to normal.  
“I didn’t expect you until tomorrow”, she said turning herself onto her back. Immediately his face came into view. He lifted himself up above her and she welcomed him into her embrace. The weight and warmth of his body on hers made her moan. He bent down his face towards hers. The kiss was soft and loving. She let her arms sneak around his neck and dug her fingers into his brown hair that was getting a bit long and curly.  
His hands ran over her entire body. They grabbed at her nightshirt and pulled it upwards. It was such an unexpected move from him that she gasped in astonishment.  
The sound made him stiffen and he immediately let go of the nightshirt.  
“I’m sorry!” he whispered sadly and pulled himself out of her embrace. The weight of his body disappeared from above her and Svante removed himself to the other side of the bed where he turned his back towards her.  
Märta feeling bereft, moved herself as close to him as she could and embraced him from behind. She lifted her upper body supporting it on his body and let her lips touch his neck, just where it met his shoulder.  
“I’m sorry my love”, he said quietly. “I don’t know what came over me.”  
“I didn’t complain”, she breathed into his neck, placing another light kiss on the skin. “I’m just not used to you doing something like that. I was surprised, but not displeased.”  
She kissed his neck once more and he turned around facing her and pulled her into his embrace.  
“I have missed you so much!” he breathed and turned her carefully down into the bed again.  
“I have missed you too darling”, she smiled and raised her leg to capture his as he took place between her legs again. Her hands returned to play with his hair once more.  
The next kiss they shared was one of raw, burning lust. Their embrace was more desperate and hurried than ever before and it did not take long for them to reach the ultimate pleasure. Exhausted, Svante sank down onto her, his head on her shoulder and she placed her arms tightly around his neck. Their breathing still strained and heavy and their bodies drenched in sweat, but she didn’t mind it. All she cared was that he was here with her.  
“Am I too heavy?” he asked, as usual, a bit worried that she was displeased.  
“No, you are perfect”, she answered as her fingers again started playing with his hair. “It is really very nice.”  
They were still so intimately connected, but neither of them made any attempt to disengage. They fell quiet for some time and Märta was sure that her husband had fallen asleep.  
“I love you!”  
It was said as a quiet murmur and Märta was sure he wouldn’t repeat it if she asked him to, but she heard it and her heart expanded.  
“I love you too!” she answered with a smile, stroking all of him that she could reach.  
Svante drew a deep sigh and gave her neck a small kiss. She wondered how long he had tried to master the courage to say it to her face. She realised she had felt it for longer than she could grasp, but it was such a relief to hear it from him directly. He really was opening up to her. It made her feel so very special.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seem to have turned into a series of one-shots. They are not really meant to be in chronological order, but part of my Vasa fic. I hope you enjoy it.

It was cold. Of course it was! It was only early March after all. The wedding had gone well, Svante thought as he helped Märta into the sleigh. She sat down in the seat and he jumped in beside her. She smiled sweetly at him. She was his wife! It felt surreal. He took the heavy wool blanket that had been left on the floor of the sleigh and covered their rapidly cooling legs. He made sure to tuck Märta in carefully. The blanket made their knees bump into one another. The contact was light and he quickly pulled away his knee again, but it sent shockwaves through his entire body. He didn’t dare to look at her and he could feel a most unmanly blush covering his face that at the same time was cooling off in the cold weather.

“Svante”, said Märta gently and suddenly, he felt her small hand on his arm. She compressed his muscle, but not in a painful way and another tingling shockwave spread from her touch out to his entire body. He collected all the courage he could master and looked at her shyly.

“Everything is fine”, she continued calmly and her hand started stroking his arm carefully. Even through the thick layer of winter clothes, he felt the tingle in the touch and his breathing deepened considerably.

He couldn’t find his voice to answer her. He was too distracted by her touch and closeness. So he just nodded and took the reins in front of him. The greyish white horse started trotting slowly through the snow towards the castle.

Suddenly, he felt Märta snuggling closer to him and she placed her head on his shoulder with a deep, content sigh. The move shattered his wits and he almost dropped the reins. He had had no idea that she would be so touchy. And outside where everyone could see them! Did she feel the same tingling feeling as he did whenever they touched? Did she like it? He knew they from now on would have every right to touch one another as much as they would like. The thought both scared and thrilled him. She was his wife!

He took a deep breath, looking around at the sleighs with their family and friends that followed them and the one with the king and queen in front of them. He took the reins in one hand. The other, he put around Märta’s body and brought her even closer to his so her head was now resting on his chest. With one eye on the horse, he quickly bent down and placed a small kiss on the top of her head. She sighed contently and snuggled even closer to him. Maybe she was right. Everything would be fine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is especially for Lady_Lola_Lu because she has just taken Svante and Märta to her heart.

Märta wondered why she had chosen for them to take a shorter outing to the forest. The sun was up, but it did not warm much. She had somehow forgotten that it never does in January. It was downright freezing outside due to the cold wind. She tucked the cloak closer to her body and glanced at the man walking beside her.

Even though he did not talk much, she had realized that she liked his presence beside her. He seemed to seek her out whenever he did not have other obligations. Would he always be so quiet? Mrs Kristina had told her he needed to get used to people before he felt comfortable opening up to them and she had decided to give him a chance. At first it had been because she realized it would be a rather sad rest of her life otherwise, but now she had come to like his often silent presence beside her. He was handsome; tall and muscular with the same reddish-brown hair as his mother and the fashionable beard in the same colour. His eyes where the deepest blue, just like the ocean and lately she had realized she would be fine drowning in them.

She had chosen to bring the stable boy Måns on their outing. He always let them be. At the moment he was asleep in the sleigh they had just left to take a walk in the glade. Not that it was any risk. Svante always walked at a respectable distance from her. She sighed. That was the only thing she could complain about his visits. He barely touched her. She glanced at him again. It was like he did not dare to. Like he thought she would break. Her sisters had all told her how exciting it was when their betrotheds had touched them in secret during their visits and also how they had kissed their hands both when they came and left. The only time Svante had done it was when he had come to propose. It had made her feel all tingly and excited and she wondered why he had not repeated the action again. Had he not liked kissing her? She sighed heavily.

“Is there something wrong miss Märta? Are you cold? Do you want to return?” Svante’s voice broke through her thoughts. He sounded worried, but how could she tell him that she wanted him to kiss her? Or at least touch her. Before she could answer, a freezing wind blew over them. Märta shivered and he saw it.

Svante seemed to be indecisive. His teeth took hold of his lower lip and he glanced nervously back at the sleigh. Then suddenly he took a few steps closer and reached out his hand. It found her waist and pulled her into his chest.

Märta could not believe it. This was what she had wanted! It felt wonderful to be this close to him. Her heart beat faster and it felt like it was ready to jump out to him. She sighed happily and placed her head on his shoulder.

“I like this”, she said quietly and closed her eyes, revelling in his closeness.

Her action and words made him stiffen and she could feel his breathing increase by the movements of his chest against hers. She lifted up her head again and looked at him. He swallowed and his face showed a mix of nervousness and fright. Before she could second guess her actions, she raised herself onto her toes and placed her lips carefully against his. This made his whole body go rigid and she was just about to step away and apologize, when his lips reacted with a passion she would never have dreamt he could muster.

The rest of the world faded away. Their lips opened, tongues duelled and teeth clashed against each other. She could not help the content moan that slipped from her lips. Suddenly Svante’s body stiffened again like he just realized what they were doing. He carefully pushed her away. Both of their breathing were heightened and turned into a big cloud of smoke between them. His lips were swollen and stood out in red in the middle of his beard. He swallowed hard and looked at her like he could not believe what had just happened. She felt his arms slip from her back and he took a step away from her.

“I am so very sorry!” he said after catching his breath. “I do not know what came over me.”

“Svante”, she said kindly and closed the distance between them again. “It is totally fine. I liked it... a lot.”

His breathing was still heavy and he was still stiff, but she moved as close to him as she could and placed her head back onto his shoulder.

“Besides, it was me who kissed you”, she sighed into his neck. His arms stiffly and slowly hugged her close again. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. She most certainly liked this very much. She could get used to being in his arms and she hoped he would get used to having her there too.


	4. Chapter 4

Svante walked back and forth outside of the closed door. The silence was from time to time broken by Märta's scream from its other side. He had never felt more powerless. He could not stand it. All he wanted to do was run straight in there and hurt someone... anyone! She was hurting and he had a feeling it was all his fault. He had made her pregnant and now she was hurting because of it.

She could die. The child could die. He did not want to think about it, but could not help the thoughts sipping into his mind. A lot of women and children died during the delivery. It was so dangerous. He wanted to be there. Wanted to hold her. If she and their child died, he wanted to say goodbye. The nine months they had been married had been the happiest of his life. He did not know what he would do if she died. Would he ever be able to live through it? His mind tried calming him saying the sounds from behind the door indicated that she was very much alive, but his heart countered that he could not be sure for how long.

Suddenly Märta's painful screams were replaced by the cries of a child. He stopped completely in his tracks and turned his face towards the door his mind went blank. The child was here! What had happened? The lack of sound from his wife made the happiness inside his heart faulter. Had she lived through it? His heart raced. Again he supressed the urge to run into the room to see her. If she was about to die, he needed to see her before she did. His breathing came in rapid spurts and his mind could not focus on one thought, it raced from one bad scenario to the next. He fell to his knees in the middle of the floor, turned his eyes up towards the roof, entangled the fingers of his hands and prayed silently as he had done so many times since this had all begun in the late afternoon yesterday that everything was fine. In the middle of the prayer his mind reminded him that he also needed to thank God for the child that by the sound of it was very much alive in the other room. God had not been kind to him, but he hoped that he would hear this prayer and let Märta live. He needed her! Their child needed her!

The door was opened carefully as he had just finished and his mother came out with a mild smile and within seconds he was up on his feet again. He rushed towards her.

"Congratulations!" she exclaimed. "You have a beautiful little girl."

A girl! Svante felt the happiness spread inside him and his heart expanded. He tried blinking away the tears that suddenly had gathered in his eyes.

"Has... Is Märta..." he stuttered, all the emotions making it impossible to talk.

"She is fine", his mother smiled. "Exhausted, but fine. They are resting."

He looked towards the door his mother had left ajar.

"You can go in to them", Kristina smiled again. "Your wife asked for you."

~~~~

His eyes seeked her out as soon as he took a step inside. He found her in the middle of her bed looking sweaty and absolutely exhausted and more beautiful than ever. She was half-lying, resting her upper body and head against the pillows and the cover was not drawn up higher than her hips. Her nightdress was opened up, revealing one of her breasts. In her arms, tucked to the exposed breast, was a small bundle dressed in a wollen blanket. The smallest hand he had ever seen stretched out from the blanket onto her breast, clutching at her skin.

Svante exhaled deeply, a breath he had not realised he had been holding and his wife opened her eyes. He did not think it was possible for his heart to be bigger, but it swelled inside his chest of love, hapiness and relief. He tried gathering his thoughts and feelings, blinking furiously to avoid tearing up, but the tears suddenly ran down his cheeks like a rapid in the spring.

Märta smiled an exhaused smile and reached out the hand not holding their daughter towards him. He walked slowly towards them.

"She is... you are... she..." he stuttered as he reached them and grabbed his wife's hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it.

"I know", Märta breathed beaming down at the child in her arms.

"I love you", he gulped, feeling a new wave of tears flowing from his eyes.

"We love you too."

He bent down, kissing her lips tenderly. He thought he had never been so proud or so much in love with her.

Märta's movements caused the baby in her arms to drop her breast and look surprisingly up at her parents. Svante held his breath, mesmerized by his new daughter. She had a round face and nose, a small mouth with full lips, evidently all from her mother, but the dark blue eyes were all his like the small bush of reddish-brown hair that peeked out from the blanket wrapped around her head.

"Do you want to hold her?" Märta asked looking lovingly up at him.

His heart stopped. Did he dare to? His teeth took hold of his lower lip, but he nodded slowly. His eyes watered again as Märta carefully handed him the baby. She felt so tiny and light in his arms. His heart soared with happiness and he could not do anything about the tears again rushing down his cheeks.

"Sigrid", he managed to get out through sobbing.

"Then Sigrid will be her name", smiled Märta resolutely.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To help Scruggzi feel well again.

She was so beautiful! Svante knew he had been staring at her a lot this evening, but how could he not? She was so vibrant and living as she weaved a path through the dance floor with her current partner. He really needed to look away or he would make a complete fool of himself. Once she had looked back at him, her green eyes glittering with hapiness. Of course she was happy. Her sister was married to the king. She now belonged to one of the most influential families in the country.

As so often this evening, he forced himself to look away from her. He hoped no one had noticed. He looked around. His mother was talking to hers. He hoped she had not noticed. He was always somewhat wary at social gatherings when she was present too. She had a way of seeing straight through him which always ended up with him being embarrased about one thing or another.

The dancing stopped and her dance partner Ture Pedersson led her off the floor. They stopped close to him and Mr Ture bowed over her little hand.

"Thank you for the dance Miss Märta! You must allow me to tell you once more how lovely you look tonight." he said and to Svante's disappointment, she gave him a very genuine smile.

"You are exaggerating as usual Mr Ture", she said looking sweetly up at him. Watching their interaction made Svante feel strange inside. He had always liked Mr Ture, but suddenly he felt like he wanted to rip him apart. He shook the strange feeling out of his head, but it was like he had a monster growling inside of his chest.

"I most certainly am not", Mr Ture answered with a shocked voice and a wink towards Märta that made her smile expand and the monster inside of Svante trying to get out of its leash. "You Leijonhufvud sisters are the most beautiful women in the room this evening. I hope we get the chance to dance again soon."

He placed a small kiss on her little hand before letting go, bowing and walking off. Svante could not help glaring at his friend as he past or following him with his eyes to the other side of the room where he seemed to be asking Miss Karin Holgerdotter for the next dance.

"Does Mr Svante have a good time?"

Her voice startled him and he turned around. She stood there smiling... at him! She smiled... **at him**! Time stopped. The monster was suddenly nowhere to be found and had been replaced with an explosion of feelings inside of him. She smiled at him! She was unbelievably beautiful. He had thought so ever since he, his mother and his step-father arrived, but this was the first time he had the chance to study her up close. He felt his breathing getting heavy.

Her golden hair was caught underneath a forest-green crescent-shaped hat with a veil hanging from its backside, trapping the blonde curls keeping them out of view for his eyes. The overdress she wore had the same dark green colour. Its skirt opened up showing an underdress in a lighter shade of green that was also visible underneath the overdress' open arms. The colours enhanced her big, expressive green eyes that he suddenly felt himself getting lost in. She did not reach higher than his chin. In fact everything about her was very petite. She had a small round nose and a small mouth with full, rose-coloured lips which begged to be kissed. Those lips had stopped smiling now and the beautiful green eyes watched him, obviously wanting an answer that he did not know if he could manage to get out. He just stood there opening and closing his mouth a few times.

She sighed and was just about to turn away, when he suddenly heard himself saying: "Dance?"

He felt like a fool and wanted to run away, but her sweet smile reappeared and his heart jumped in his chest.

"Of course!" she said sweetly and he let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. He stiffly reached out a hand and she placed her own in his. It was only a light touch, but it shook him to the core. He let out a shaky breath and led her onto the dance floor where the next set were already forming. How had he ended up here?! He looked down at the woman beside him. She really was breathtaking. Her eyes searched his face and then she smiled sweetly again.

When the musicians started playing, he thanked God that it was a slow pavane and not a galliard. If he was to make a complete fool out of himself, he was glad it was as little as possible. He took a deep breath, trying to force the excitement out of his body. Her small hand in his burned and spread a tingling feeling throughout his entire body. He very much wanted this to go well. He felt he needed more than ever for this dance to go well.

He moved over the dance floor like in a trance, mesmerized by her proximity and her hand holding his. He had a hard time concentrating on his steps and when she moved closer to him as the dance dictated, he missed one.

"It gets better if you relax", she whispered softly, pressing his hand reassuringly with hers.

Svante did not know what to say, so he just nodded and swallowed hard.

~~~~

The dance only lasted a couple of minutes and then he walked her off the dance floor. Still holding her hand, he managed to get out a small "Thank you Miss Märta!" before bowing towards her and running off as fast as he could, too embarrased to look at the surprised and hurt look on his former dance partner's face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is still a little bit rough around the edges and I might change it completely, but I need test pilots on it.

"Mr Svante Sture is here and wish to speak with her majesty and her relatives."

"Very well Maria", Margareta answered with a smile towards the young maid as she placed a caring hand on Märta's arm resting on the side of the chair. "Show him in."

The maid curtsied and disappeared out the door while the three women remaining in the room put down their needle work and rose from their seats by the fire. Märta drew a deep breath. Soon Maria came back with Mr Svante.

Märta looked at him while he greeted first Margareta and then their mother Ebba. He was handsome. She had thought so already at the ball when they had danced. Not as tall as any of her brother-in-laws, but she only reached up to his chin. His body was robust, but muscular, the face had an oval-shape framed by reddish-brown hair and beard. His eyes had a deeply blue colour, the nose was straight and the mouth had full lips that stood out in reddish pink in the middle of the beard. The lips were now turned upwards in a seemingly forced smile.

Märta let her eyes wander downwards. He wore a beige jacket and a dark brown cloak hang across one of his shoulders. His pluder hosen had the same dark brown colour as the cloak which was also the colour of the hat that he held in his left hand. His calfs were a bit too thick for fashion, but he wore the beige silk socks very well. His whole body seemed even more stiff today then it had during their dance and she feared he would be just as stand-offish and rude as then. Would he always be like that? She shook the thought out of her head. Like Margareta said, they did not really know each other yet. You could not base a life-time on just a few minutes of dancing.

She knew very well that he had chosen this outcome just as little as she had. She wondered what he thought about it. His eyes slowly left her mother's and focused on her. At the sight of her, he seemed to stiffen even more. His mouth opened and closed a little before his teeth snawed a little on them. They were soon replaced by his tongue sweeping across them before his mouth closed completely. He bowed slowly.

"Miss Märta", he said quietly with a shaky voice and followed by a deep gulp. Was he afraid?

"Mr Svante", she answered with a curtsy. She tried giving him a reassuring smile and she could see him trying to smile back.

She was so caught up in studying him, that she didn't notice when her mother and sister quietly stepped out of the room, leaving them alone.

"Miss Märta has to excuse me..." Svante started, but his voice trailed off. She blinked in confusion to the apology. What did he feel the need to excuse?

"I mean..." he tried again, still with the same shaky voice. "I want to..."

She was puzzled. They both knew what he would ask. How come he had such a hard time saying it?

"No", he continued blinking hard and shaking his head as if telling himself to stop. "I was wondering if... if... if... No... I would be very happy if... if Miss Märta would do me the honour of..."

His tongue swept across his lips again and her heart started to beat faster. He was not stand-offish and probably didn't mean to be rude either. He seemed very nervous and actually more than a little scared too. She tried giving him an encouraging smile and could hear the deep breath leaving his lungs. He swallowed again. Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming urge to reach out to him. She took a few steps towards him and reached out her hand to touch his. He backed away, shaking his head and she dropped the hand that had been hanging in mid-air.

"I do not want Miss Märta to feel like it is an obligation", he continued. His voice barely more than a whisper and his eyes focusing on a point behind her left shoulder. "If Märta does not want to, we can come up with something that will not cause a shadow on either of us, but... I would be very happy if... if... if..." He stopped to take a deep breath. "... if Miss Märta would be my wife."

He rushed out the last words seemingly forcing the words out of his mouth. His eyes dropping to the floor in front of him and a deep blush spred across his face. Her heart suddenly beat faster in her chest. Her breath deep and shallow. She blinked and closed the remaining distance between them, putting her hand on his arm.

"Svante", she said gently dropping the formality of the title, trying to make him look at her. At first he refused to, but slowly his deep blue eyes met her green ones.

"You do not have to..." he suddenly burst out. "I know this was not your idea... We can probably come up with something."

Her heart went out to him then.

"But I want to", she said trying to sound kind and encouraging even though she herself was surprised by the words that came from her mouth and the ease in which they were delivered.

"You do?!!"

His eyes and mouth opened widely and she could not remember hearing anyone sounding so surprised ever before.

"Yes", she answered with a nod and a smile for extra encouragement.

He swallowed hard and suddenly reached for her hand. He took it in his, bowed above it and placed the lightest of kisses onto it. Märta was amazed. How could something so innocent feel so intimate? He rose, blinking furiously and she could see his eyes were watery with unshed tears that he seemed to be trying to force away. One of them slipped out of the eye and ran slowly down his cheek. She so wanted to wipe it away, but did not know how he would react if she did. He seemed totally overcome by her answer.

"Thank you!" he breathed out.


	7. Chapter 7

Märta woke up feeling something was different from when she had fallen asleep. It took only a few seconds until she realized that she could not sense her husband beside her. Since the wedding a week ago, his arm had always been around her waist whenever she had woken up during the nights.

She rolled over onto her back and reached out her hand towards the side where he had been. It was empty and cold to the touch. Märta felt her thoughts fast rush into her heads. Where was he? This was their first night in their new home at Stegeborg castle and he was not there. She opened her eyes. The fire in the fireplace on the opposite side of the room was almost gone, but she could see quite clearly in the dim light. The desk, the chest, the two chairs, but no Svante. Had he gone to the _privet_ (bathroom*)? No. His side of the bed was cold. Were the castle under attack? She listened carefully, but there were no sounds coming from the outside. Everything was quiet and seemed very calm. Her eyes fell upon the door that separated her bedroom from his. Had he gone in there? If he had, why had he done that? Did he not enjoy sharing a bed with her? Once he got over the first nervousness, he always seemed to enjoy touching her and she thought she had been able to please him. He seemed to be melting into her touch.

A shill went through her. What if she had hurt him without knowing it? He was sensitive, shy and too kind. What if he had not felt comfortable enough to tell her, she had hurt him. They had only been married a week and the male body was still a bit of a mystery to her. He had been reluctant to make love to her on their wedding night. She knew he had thought a lot about the blessings, but she had been so curious, so expectant. She had not really thouht they would go as far as they did. She had just felt an urgent need to touch him. That feeling had grown ever sense and now, when he was nowhere to be found, she felt it even more. She sighed heavily. She felt bereft and lonely without him.

She drew down the covers and jumped carefully out of bed and took the few steps towards the doors. She licked her lips and as quietly as possible, she opened the door. It creaked and she could hear movements from the bed on the opposite wall. The fire was almost completely out in the fireplace, but beside his large bed, she could make out his favourite chair paired with another of the same kind in front of the fireplace. A desk and a chair, a chest.

"Svante?" she asked with a voice that was far too unsteady.

"Märta?" she could hear his voice from the bed. It creaked and suddenly, he was jumping out of it. He was so much in a hurry standing up to greet her that his legs got caught up in the sheets and he fell to the floor.

She gasped horrified at the event and rushed to help him, but he quickly was on his feet again. His face turned a dark shade of red from his embarrassment, but she could see him grimacing a little when he stretched out his left knee and she realized he must have hurt himself.

"Svante?" she said worriedly, reaching out for him with her hand. "Are you hurt?"

"Is everything alright?" he said, ignoring her question, hand and eyes. (Yes, he was embarrassed!) "Is there anything you need? I can call for the servants. Are you thirsty? Do you want some wine?"

"The only thing I want is you", she said with a warm smile, closing the distance between them. He stiffened, but she stepped straight into his embrace, laying her head against his chest. "You were not there when I woke up."

"I thought you would like to sleep alone in your own bed now when you have one", he said and took a deep breath. He was not entirely comfortable with her closeness just yet she realized. She could feel his lower jaw tighten and she realized his front teeth had taken hold of his lower lip as it always seemed to do when he was uncomfortable.

She lifted her head to look up at him. Her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek and for the first time since he had fallen out of bed, his beautiful, deeply blue eyes looked straight into hers.

"If I would have wanted to be left alone, I would have told you Dearest!" she said with a warm smile, reaching up on her toes to press a small kiss to his mouth.

"Hmmm", was all the things he said.

"I felt lonely without you there when I woke up."

He looked at the bed beside them.

"Would you... I mean we can go..."

"No, here is fine."

She reached for his hand and entangled his fingers with hers.

"... as long as you're there with me, I will be fine sleeping where ever is possible."

He gulped and smiled softly, raising their entwined hand and kissing her fingers. His breath and lips on his skin made her feel widely awake. Perhaps there was not going to be as much sleeping together this night as she had thought only seconds before.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus scene to chapter 7

Svante woke hearing the door to his bedroom open. A few steps could be heard against the floor, but suddenly the person stopped in the middle of his tracks. Svante grunted and opened his eyes tiredly turning his head to face the intruder. He glared angrily at his valet Anders Simonsson, who, at the sight of Märta draped across his chest, had got a look of embarrassment mixed with fear on his face. Svante lifted his hand from Märta’s back and waved him off. He bowed, excusing himself quietly and rushed out of the room, closing the door carefully behind him.  
  
“Schwante?” came the sleepy voice of his wife.  
  
“It’s ok”, he answered, stroking her back and nuzzling her hair with his nose. “It was only Anders.”  
  
“Can I kill him?”  
  
“No, I don’t think he knew you were here or even thought that you could be. I usually am up this early... We probably should get up.”  
  
“Not yet.”  
  
“No, no yet.”


	9. Chapter 9

He felt his heart beating heavily in his chest and he took a few deep breath to remain calm. He pulled on the hem of his jacket, trying to have it cover his entire body.  
Svante knew his mother was right. He couldn't stay at home in Hörningsholm all his life. He needed to get out and become an active part of his social group. He sighed. He would have rather stayed at home playing with his little brother though. The boy had provided a great joy in his life when he had had none.  
"Everything will be fine", his mother whispered beside him. "It's time you show them what a nice and handsome young man you are."  
Svante glanced at her beside him. He knew she was blinded by parental biases, but he gave her a tired smile in response. They had just arrived and were introduced to the others. The king had told him, he wanted to see him privately to discuss him getting a fief. He wonder how much his mother had had a say in that.  
He moved together with his mother towards a couple on women close by. One older and one younger. Both of them had the same reddish-blonde hair as the new queen, though the older women's hair had started to turn grey. The older woman was dressed in a dress of deep red and had a golden chain around her neck. Her eyes were green and alert and she smiled a warm smile at him as he was introduced to her. Her name was Ebba Eriksdotter and she had been married to Erik Abrahamsson, who had been one of his father's closest men. Svante knew he must have met her before and he strained his memory and thought he found something, but it was gone as quickly as it came.  
He turned his head towards the younger women and stiffened immediately. His heart rate increased and he stopped breathing while his mouth opened and closed like a stranded fish without any words coming out of them.  
She was small, petite even, only reaching up to his nose. Her eyes were green and alert like her mother's and they shone of cleverness and a tad of mischeif. Her face was heartshaped with high cheekbones and a small, round light freckled nose in the middle. Her mouth was equally small with rose-coloured lips that he suddrnly had a strong urge to taste. Her blonde hair was trapped underneath a forest green, cresent-shaped hat and the dress she wore had the same, deep green that accentuated her eyes. The skirt of the over-dress opened up in front to show a skirt in a lighter shade of green underneath. She was breathtaking!  
"Good day Miss Märta! My name is Svante. It's really nice to meet you."  
His mother's voice broke through his stupor and he suddenly felt a deep blush taking over his entire face. He wanted to either run as far away as he could or sink through the floor, but knew he couldn't do any of it. How embarassing to have one's mother greeting someone for you! He didn't dare to look at Miss Märta anymore, but bowed and rushed away.


	10. Chapter 10

Märta looked sideways at Mr Svante. She had often found his eyes upon her this evening. He was quite handsome even though he was short and stout and had a bit too big calves. She found herself wanting to know if his bushy, reddish-brown hair was as soft as it seemed. His deep blue eyes were intoxicating, but he had not said a word to her. It had been Mrs Kristina who greeted her when they were introduced. He had seemed so stiff and had stared at her while his mouth opened and closed.

She chanced another glance at him standing alone in the corner. His eyes were fixed on her again. His gaze was not really uncomfortable. Instead, she found that she quite enjoyed his interest. She smiled warmly. Upon noticing that she saw him, he immediately lowered his eyes and seemed a bit embarrassed. His front teeth took a hold of his lower lip.

He hadn't danced much this evening. Only with Margareta as was tradition. Märta hoped he would dance. She wanted to see him move. Especially she wanted him to ask her to dance. A dance would surely bring out a smile to his face. He moved towards the herring table ( _*It's called that directly translated - sillbord. It's still part of Swedish food culture during christmas and midsummer._ ). Märta could see him taking a deep breath while filling up a small plate with different types of pickled herring.

"Does miss Märta care for a dance?"

Märta spun around and saw Mr Ture Pedersson standing there smiling warmly towards her. He bowed when she met his eyes and she smiled back at him. Mr Ture was a young, noble man of the Bielke family with blonde hair and brown eyes. He wore a red jacket and black pluderhosen of silk. Contrary to Mr Svante, he was tall and lean and had what by fashion would be considered perfect calves.

"That would be lovely Mr Ture", she said shooting a quick glance over her shoulder towards the dark-haired man. He had looked up from the food, looking straight at her again with a look of sadness mixed with worry on his face. She through a smile at him and took the hand Mr Ture held out for her.

"Miss Märta certainly looks lovely tonight", Mr Ture said cleary as they took their place on the dance floor. His eyes left hers and she noticed them taking up the direction of Mr Svante for just a second before they returned to her and he leaned down towards her and added with a whisper "And from what it seems, I'm not the only one who thinks so."

Märta looked confusedly up at him.

"I think Mr Svante might be a new admirer", Mr Ture added quietly.

Märta felt her heart jump in her chest and start beating harder. She glanced again at the dark-haired man. He looked uncomfortable and completely miserable in the corner where he stood quickly eating the herring on his plate. He was so stiff and seemed so uncomfortable around her. He couldn't really like her, could he?

"Let's just dance!" She said as the music started. Mr Ture smiled and squezed her hand as they started moving around the dance floor.


	11. Chapter 11

Svante took a deep breath and stared at the altarpiece his parents had given to the church the year before he was born. It was massive, on the border to quite pompous and the images could be changed to fit the time in the church year. 

His eyes wandered down to the depiction of his father bellow the Bible pictures to the left. Svante tried to strain his mind. Sometimes he thought he remembered something about his father. A smell and a sense of joy and love, but he was never certain it was a real memory. His mother had been good at keeping him alive for him. 

His mother... Even the thought of her made his heart ache and a sense of immense emptiness spread inside him. One of the first things he knew he remembered was when he, his siblings and his grandmother had been taken to Copenhagen without her. He remembered vividly how scared he had been that he would never see her again.

He glanzed sideways down at his wife. Märta too looked at the altarpiece. He loved her immensely and his love for her seemed to get stronger and stronger for every year. Was that normal? Most marriage seemed to be so practical. He reached out his hand and took hers, entwining their fingers. Märta looked up at him, her eyes filled with the love he had come to trust over the years. He brought their entwined hands up to his lips and kissed hers. She smiled sweetly up at him and he forced a sad smile in return.

He took a deep breath and looked at the picture of his beloved mother on the otherside underneath the alterpiece to the right. He missed her. It hurt inside with longing for her. His throat felt like a great knot and he swallowed to try to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling. He blinked, trying not to cry, but one perfect tear made its way down his cheek.

"Svante dearest?"

Märta's voice almost made him jump.

"She was the only family I had for a very long time."

"Not anymore Dearest. I'm here. And so are the children and your brother."

Märta pulled on his arm and made him turn towards her, letting her take him in his arms, kissing his cheek tenderly. 

"You are not alone in this Svante. I'm here. I'm always here."


	12. Chapter 12

Svante slammed the door to his bed chamber hard. It closed with a loud bang. His action surprised even him and he looked at the door blinking in great surprise at it like it had slammed itself shut. He took a deep breath to calm himself down.

This was terrible! He knew he shouldn't have looked at her so much, but he had not been able to look away. His eyes kept coming back to her. She was so beautiful. So vibrant and alive. And because his treacherous eyes had not been able to let her go, he had ruined her life.

He threw his stretched out body onto the bed landing on his stomach with a frustrated groan. He needed to come up with something so she did not had to marry him. 

He hadn't told anyone about the dreams. Not even his priest. They were so vivid and embarassing. You shouldn't have dreams like that about virgins. She was such a perfect angel and here he was having extremly impure dreams and thoughts comparing her to the fallen woman Duke Magnus had made him visit. 

There was a knock on the door and he heard it opened before he said anything.

"Svante?" said the calm voice of his mother and he felt the bed dip as she sat down beside him. She placed her small hand onto his ancle and began to stroke it tenderly.

"I really thought you would be happy", she sighed as he kicked his leg away from her.. "Miss Märta is a lovely girl."

He sighed heavily. He knew she was lovely. She was the most amazing girl he had ever met.

"Svante", his mother sighed again.

"I want her to be happy mother."

"Oh she will be dearest. You are such an amazing young man. You will become a great husband for her."

She put her hand back onto his leg and this time he let her stroke him tenderly.

"She's so beautiful", he murmured quietly.

"I know", his mother responded and her stroking his leg through his white silk socks intensified. He could hear the smile on her lips in his voice.

He turned his head, surprised and frightened by her answer.

"Oh Darling!" she exclaimed with a small laugh. "Your admiration was so evident in your eyes."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For scruggzi and Lady_Lola_Lu:  
> This chapter will be in English too, but I wanted to show kidnthehall the Swedish version.

Märta återvände motvilligt till medvetandet. Hon ville inte öppna ögonen riktigt ännu, men hon var varse om sin makes vänsterarm omkring sin kropp, hans hand vilade på hennes midja. Hennes huvud låg på hans axel och hennes egen vänsterarm låg utslagen över hans lätt håriga bröst. De långa, djupa andetagen och den lätta snarkningen indikerade att han sov. Hon undrade hur tidigt det var. Det hända inte ofta att hon vaknade före honom.

Fortfarande med ögonen stängda, sträckte Märta ut kroppen med ett lätt gnäll. Hennes kropp kändes tung både från avslappning och tillfredsställelse. Natten som varit hade varit underbar!

Svante grymtade och släppte taget om henne som svar på hennes rörelser, men vaknade inte. Hon tryckte upp sin kropp tätare intill hans och lät sin vänsterfot leta sig in mellan hans ben. När hennes kropprörelser stillade sig, fann hans arm genast sin väg tillbaka runt hennes midja. Han suckade förnöjt och snart var de lätta snarkningarna tillbaka.

 

Natten hade varit annorlunda. Väldigt underbar och rolig, men annorlunda var nog det ord som bäst beskrev den. Det normala var att hon tog kontrollen, sittandes gränsle över hans kropp. Märta visste att det inte var normalt, men det var vad som gav dem båda mest njutning. Igår hade hon överlämnat kontrollen helt till honom. Han hade varit mer känslosam än hon sett honom på länge och därför lät hon honom placera henne försiktigt på rygg i sängen innan han försiktigt sänkte sin kropp ovanpå hennes.

Svante hade varit mycket hårdare än vanligt och även om han oftast var väldigt tystlåten när de älskade, hade han igår stönat högljutt när han sjönk in i henne. Hans känslor hade forsat ur honom med varje rörelse. Märta älskade honom. Han var alltid så öm och kärleksfull. Dessa känslor hade funnits där igår natt också, men alla känslor hade varit mycket intensivare än de varit på många år. Hennes kropp hade skakat av hans kraftfulla rörelser in och ut ur henne. Njutningen som hade vibrerat från punkten där deras kroppar fogades samman hade varit så stark att hon blev tvungen att blunda hårt ett par sekunder innan hon åter öppnade ögonen igen. När hennes ögon hade fokuserat på hans ansikte, hade han ett spänt ansiktsuttryck och hans framtänder bet hårt i underläppen. Han var nära att falla over kanten till den ultimata njutningen.

”Släpp taget!” hade hon viskat när hans blick mött hennes samtidigt som hennes armar och ben letade sig runt hans kropp.

”Men…” hade han protesterat i en flämtning nästan helt utan andan. Hans höftrörelser hade nästan avstannat.

”Det kommer bli bra Älskade”, hade hon svarat med ett leende och tryckt upp sina höfter mot hans samtidigt som hon lade händerna i hans korta hår och lät naglarna varsamt rispa mot skalpen. ”Allt kommer att bli bra. Bara släpp taget!”

Svante hade böjt sig ner och fångat hennes läppar i en blöt och kraftig kyss fylld av upphetsning innan han återupptog höftrörelserna som förde hans lem in och ut ur henne. Kyssen hade varit intensiv, men blev inte särskilt långvarig och hans läppar lämnade hennes för att ge ifrån sig ett njutningsfyllt stön följt av en flämtning som lät som hennes namn samtidigt som hon kände honom helt ge efter för extasen.

Med ett par gulpande andetag, hade han fallit ihop ovanpå henne och hon hade tagit emot honom med öppen famn. Hans huvud hade landat på hennes axel med ansiktet vänt in i sidan av hennes hals, andetagen häftiga. Hennes sköte hade fortfarande bultat hårt av upphetsning, men hon visste att det måste vänta. Istället hade hon tagit ett par djupa andetag och låtit sina händer varsamt smeka hans svettiga rygg.

Plötsligt hade hon hört ett par dova snyftningar och snart kändes hans tårar mot hennes hud.

”Sch!” hade hon vyssjat samtidigt som hennes händer hade smekt hans hår. ”Allt blir bra Älskade. Jag är här.”

 

Märta flyttade långsamt huvudet från Svantes axel till hans bröst. Hon kysste honom lätt strax ovanför bröstvårtan.

"Mm", andades han och handen på armen som inte omfamnade henne, lades på den hon hade vilandes på hans bröst.

 

Efter en liten stund hade hans tårar stillats och hon hade känt hur hans kropp stelnade till ovanpå hennes.

"Är jag för tung?"

Hans röst hade låtit orolig och han hade rest sig upp för att fånga sin vikt på hennes armbågar istället. Hennes armar hade inte släppt taget om hans hals, utan hade rätats ut när han lyft sig. Hon hade långsamt öppnat ögonen och mött hans djupblå blick.

"Det är mest skönt", hade hon viskat till svar och flyttat sina händer för att kupa hans ansikte och varsamt strukit hans kinder med sina tummar. Hans skägg hade känts strävt mot hennes handflator.

Svante hade böjt sig fram och kysst henne ömt innan han med ett huj hade dragit sig ur hennes famn för att placera sin kropp vid sidan av henne i sängen. Hans vänstra armbåge hade stöttat hans överkropp och han hade sträckt ut högra handen för att omfamna hennes huvud. Hennes ögon hade fallit ihop av den så lätta beröringen och hon gav ifrån sig en djupt lättad suck. Han var på väg tillbaka till henne igen!

Strax därpå hade hon känt hur han sträckte sig över henne och snart hade hans läppar börjat peppra fjäderlätta kyssar över hela hennes ansikte. När ett leende spridit sig över hennes över hennes läppar, hade han fångat dem med sina och snart hade hans tunga begärt inträde i hennes mun. Hon hade beviljat det med glädje och mött den med sin egen. Kyssen hade fått åtrån inom henne att åter blossa upp med full styrka och hon visste att bara han kunde släcka den.

När hon givit upp en lätt suck, hade han rest sig upp och satt sig på knä bredvid henne i sängen. Med varsamma händer, som om hon var en skör blomma, hade han vänt henne om på mage och placerat en kudde under hennes höfter. Han hade därefter flyttat sig på knäna, tills han satt mellan hennes ben. Samma varsamma händer som vänt hennes kropp om, tog nu tag i hennes vänstra ben och förde foten till sina läppar. Samma fjäderlätta kyssar som nyss utforskat hennes ansikte, hade nu börjat utforska resten av hennes kropp. Inte en bit av hennes hud lämnades orörd. Hans andetag och sträva skäggstrån hade bidragit till upplevelsen och utan att kunna hejda sig, hade hon börjat ge ifrån sig njutningfulla jämranden ju mer av kroppen som hade täckts av hans läppar och tunga. Hon försökte riva och slita i sängens huvudgavel i desperation om att hålla fast i något. Hennes sköte hade bultat och hela hennes inre stått i lågor när han slutligen hade fört hennes utslagna blonda hår åt sidan och börjat kyssa hennes nacke. Märta kände ännu hur hennes inre väggar drog ihop sig av blotta minnet och hon gav Svantes bröst ytterligare en lätt kyss. Svantes hand strök ömt hennes och hon hörde hans lätta suck innan hans snarkningar återkom.

Efter att ha kysst och slickat henne i nacken, hade han långsamt sjunkit in i henne. Känslan var så överväldigande att hon skrek rakt ut.

"Sch!" hade han viskat samtidigt som han börjat röra sig in och ut ur henne sköte. Rörelserna hade varit nästan plågsamt långsamma, men han hade hållit nere hennes höfter varje gång hon försökt att möta hans och öka farten.

Trots att hon egentligen hade önskat att han gått fortare fram, dröjde det inte länge förrän hon kände sig på väg att trilla över kanten till extas. Då plötsligt hade hennes make saktat ner farten och hans lem lämnat henne.

Hon hade genast skrikit ut sitt missnöje och besvikelse.

"Sch!" hade han småskrattat och flyttat sig till sidan av hennes kropp för att sedan med sin varsamma händer, vända henne om på rygg.

Det hade tagit ett tag för hennes blick att kunna fokusera, när hon öppnat ögonen för att beundra sin älskade make vars läppar nu börjat ge hennes framsida samma behandling som resten av hennes kropp fått. Hans andhämtning var lika häftig som hennes.

Efter att ha kysst sig upp längs båda benen, hade hans tunga sträckts ut mot hennes pärla. Beröringen hade varit lika fjäderlätt som hans kyssar, men skickat chockvågor genom hela hennes kropp. Han lät tungan försiktigt cirkulera runt ett par varv, innan han, till hennes besvikelse fortsatte upp längs hennes mage och vidare mot hennes bröst.

"Svante!" hade hon flämtat, när hans mun hittat hennes högra bröst. Hennes händer hade genast letat sig in i hans hår, desperata att äntligen kunna röra honom ordentligt. "Jag måste..."

"Inte riktigt än", hade han mumlat mot hennes bröstvårta och hon hade tagit ett par djupa andetag för att hålla sig i schack.

Efter att hans mun hade lekt med båda hennes bröst ett tag och sedan kysst sin väg ut längs hennes armar, hade han så hittat fram till hennes hals. Nu hade han kommit tillbaka till ansiktet där han börjat och äntligen kände hon hans lem långsamt och försiktigt pressa sin väg tillbaka in i henne.

Deras förening hade inte blivit långvarig, men hon kunde inte minnas att den någonsin varit så intensiv och överväldigande. Hon hade tappat kontrollen långt före honom, men det var som att hans höftrörelser hela tiden gav njutningen ny styrka tills dess att han också hade givit efter och hon hade känt hans extas skjuta ut ur honom. De hade förenats i ett högljutt jämrande läte som lät djuriskt och som hon inte hade gissat att någon av dem kunde upplåta. Återigen sjönk han ihop ovanpå henne. Denna gång efter att han fullkomligt hade avgudat hennes kropp.

"Jag älskar dig så väldigt mycket!" hade han flämtat in i hennes nacke. Han hade pressat fram orden, till synes helt utan anda, för att sedan med sina sista krafter, lyfta sig ifrån henne. Han hade lagt sig bredvid henne och dragit henne tätt intill sig.

"Jag älskar dig också!" hade hon mumlat, lika utmattad som han. De hade båda somnat strax efteråt.

Märta log. Minnet av natten hade väckt den där osläckbara lusten igen. Hon öppnade för första gången den morgonen sina gröna ögon och lyfte på huvudet för att åter beundra sin virile make. Borde hon väcka honom?


End file.
